


Whispers in the storm

by rosebudsie



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Cutting, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:20:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosebudsie/pseuds/rosebudsie
Summary: We all know Larry is dead, but what we didn't get to see is his perspective on his last night...





	Whispers in the storm

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading, it should be heavily warned that this deals with a very dark topic. Proceed with caution.

The wind was heavy because of the storm that was rolling in ever so slowly. "They don't need you." His thoughts intruded, as he sat perched in the treehouse. "You're worthless. Do you actually think people need you?" His thoughts were loud tonight. He sighed into his palm he leaned on sadly. Sure, he was suicidal.

He's damn lucky no one saw right through his own figurative mask. At least he hoped no one did. He and Sal had just done exploring today around the cult under the apartments and retrieved his dropped key from a mysterious bird cage. Yeah, he thinks it's weird too. The brunette sat on his heels and watched the dark clouds roll into the sky.

Today sucked ass for him. Once he and Sal made their separate ways for tonight, Larry's depression hit harder than he'd ever expected. "Why would they ever care about you?" The brunette put his palms on the sides of his head and pressed the heels of them into his ears.

As if he could escape and block out his own thoughts. "Sal is just taking pity on you, you know." He swore his thoughts were their own being sometimes. The brunette groaned and he shifted his position so he could bring his legs up to his chest with a heaving sigh.

No, he didn't drink. He's afraid of getting addicted. But he stole a bottle from the cabniet from where his mom keeps them. She didn't drink too much now, of course, unless its for a celebration. She's over his fathers disappearance anyway. 

"Kill yourself. Do them a favor." His thoughts argued with him. "They won't care." Larry ducked his head onto his legs and felt tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. His thoughts never really got to him this badly. "Do it. Do it. Do it." His thoughts practically yelled.

He firmly closed his eyes, before he found himself pressing and digging his fingernails into his temples, feeling liquid starting to coat his nails. The sensation seemed to allow his thoughts to quit screaming for a moment, though he groaned again when they continued to repeat themselves. He found himself taking his flip phone out, flicking it open with his thumb. His hand was trembling as he selected Sal's contact. He wanted so badly to plea for his help. He wanted him to come over and put a damper on his violent thoughts. He wanted to...

He was terrified when he found that his fingers were typing for him.. What he wanted to say wasn't what he wanted to type...

Tears we're going down his face one by one as his skinny hands shook. "Sal. I'm sry dude. Pls don't blame urself." He looked to the bottle across the room. He almost instantly got a reply from Sal. Looking back at his phone to read the message, he felt more tears roll down his cheeks. 

He knew he didn't want to do this. He knows he doesn't. "Sry 4 wat? Wat r u talking about?" His hands shook, but continued to type: "it's time for me to go" he wasn't in control of himself when he stood up and grabbed the alcohol bottle from the floor.

No, instead he felt like he was watching a movie in first person. Like he wasn't himself. He hated this. He hated all of this. But the brunette found himself retrieving a box cutter knife from his tool box he normally would use for cutting paper or something alike. He pried the cap open and it popped open surprisingly very easily.

He felt his entire body shaking with the acknowledgement of this entire thing. Why couldn't he stop? Why isn't he in control of himself? His phone buzzed and he looked down at it. "u better not be doing something stupid" it read. Larry only stared at it for a moment before he brought the bottle rim to his lips, beginning to drink.

The burn of the alcohol seared his throat fiercely, like someone poured gasoline into his throat and forced him to eat a lit match. It seethed his throat and for a moment, he stopped, his body trying to reject his actions from chugging. He gagged hoarsely for a moment, Larry internally hoping maybe this would allow him to get a grip.

He was wrong, because his hand that tightly grasped the glass bottle came back up to his lips before he forced his body to take all of it at once. The burning was awful, but yet he didn't stop until the bottle was empty.

He found himself hoarsely breathing as his body curled in on himself with the pain of the alcohol intake. He knew at this point he'd poisoned himself. He groaned, but his thoughts were cheering him. Congratulating him for having the balls to do it. He looked to his phone, and he picked it up again. "It's too late. I'll be gone soon." He typed. A buzz.

He looked down to his phone as his stomach groaned in agony, causing his hands to roughly shake, making it all the more difficult to hold the phone now. "stop messing around larry. this isn't funny." He couldn't hold the phone anymore.

It dropped as soon as he read the last text. Something in his body made him lay back as he violently trembled, the side affects, he supposed... His stomach felt like it was being stabbed and his heart was racing as he tossed himself to the side. He found himself reaching for the razor from the box cutter desperately as he pushed the blade out and lifted his trembling arm.

Slice. He made a few cuts, most of them beading or puffing up red because of how shaky and inaccurate his hands were.

If Larry's mind wasn't fooling him, he heard more frantic buzzing arise from his phone. Then his ring tone, all while he sliced and cut up his arm, trying to end his misery as he aimlessly sliced. That was, until he hit what he was aiming for. He cut his artery in his arm when he sliced downwards, and soon enough he was finally getting away from the agony of his stomach being stabbed by a million little pins.

He found himself looking upwards as he choked on the alcohol he consumed as his body was trying to make another attempt to force the poisoning out of him. It only resulted in him staring blankly at the tree houses ceiling as black came into his peripheral. He heard the clamboring of someone as he was waiting for the abyss to swallow him whole.

He heard the overwhelmed cries of a voice he was all too familiar with. And he knew he wanted to beg him forgiveness for what he's done to himself as he felt the man sit upon his abdomen, crying out to him. "LARRY!" he faintly heard. But it wasn't very long as he felt his body feel like it was drifting away. But finally... the darkness finally cradled him.


End file.
